


Blade of the deeps Side A

by Pika_the_Chuu



Category: Hololive, HololiveEN, holoMyth, hololiveId
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29991429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pika_the_Chuu/pseuds/Pika_the_Chuu
Summary: Anya's origin story a prologue of how she found the right shark to weild her
Relationships: Anya Melfissa/Gawr Gura
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	Blade of the deeps Side A

Blade of the Deeps

Side A:'Cursed blade'. 

Cursed. 

Ever since my creation, that has been what I was called. Forged of the finest steel by an artisan among artisans, I was meant to become my creator's masterpiece. The capstone to his life's work. 

That night, he had just finished carving my name onto my blade. "Anya", he whispered as he reverently stared at the wavy lines of my naked blade. Actual tears shown on his cragged face and I knew he was proud of me, and I basked in the love he gave me. 

That moment of happiness was sweet and fleeting. His apprentice, the greedy bastard, yearned for his master's accomplishments and wanted to take the credit of my creation for himself. He wanted to be the one to present me to the sultan. He begged, then when begging didn't work, threatened his master, telling him to hand me over. My creator however did not relent. There was a scuffle as two hands reached for me. I found myself embedded in my creator's flesh. That was when my latent will awakened, and the rage and anguish my creator felt as he lay slain poured into me. 

That grudge welled out and became a curse that struck my creator's killer. It left him frothing in the mouth, a shell of his former self. It's more merciful than the fate he deserved if you ask me. 

I was, of course, not presented to the sultan. Upon duscovering the gruesome scene of my creator's murder and the raving madness of his killer, the imams and shamans all deemed me to be an accursed weapon. Not worthy of being presented to the sultan or of even being anywhere that the sun shines. I was wrapped in wards and then sealed in a chest, doomed to be a weapon that no one would wield forever. 

Years became decades and I was left gathering dust in that forlorn warehouse at the back of the temple, forgotten. Until one day when I was shaken awake by the sensation of my chest being jostled around. 

My prison opened and I found my handle being grasped by a man who brandished me around. Apparently, they have robbed the temple storehouse where I was kept. The man who wielded me didn't have the will or the spirit to fight against my curse however, and soon he too succumbed, laughing crazily as he slaughtered his fellow thieves; until by luck he was brought down by an arrow piercing his chest. I was picked up once more and thrown back into the chest.

Moments later, there was a splash and I felt the box sinking, until a thud announced my arrival at the bottom of that body of water. Time moved on without me once more. 

I wasn't idle during that time. Unlike before, there were no wards to keep the curse and my juvenile soul asleep. This left me nothing to do except introspection. The first thing I realized is that despite not having stuff like humans do, I was able to sense the world. I also realized, belatedly, that I was self aware. I was no longer just the sword or the curse or the souls of those I slain but a combination of all of them. 

I consumed the souls of nearby sea creatures by trickling the curse out the gaps of the chest. I can't leave the chest though or the water all around me will make me rust. So all that time, I consumed, internalized and studied my growing powers. It was a lonesome experience.

I hated that neverending, tortious routine that threatened to be what awaits me the rest of my existence. Countless times I considered just opening the lid with my miasma to allow the deluge of seawater in. I don't know if it's common sense or cowardice but in the end I didn't go through with my suicidal impulses and simply resigned myself to this maddeningly boring routine. Until fate intervened once again and I found the box being jostled once more. I 'heard' the wood of the chest creaking. A powerful creature has the box I am inside of in its powerful grasp. Soon, water will flood in and I will rust and then perish. 

_ “This is it,” _ I thought, resigned to my fate.  _ “The world itself has decided to end me.” _

The next moment, I felt the box being placed on a sandy shallow and a melodic voice sounded outside my container. 

“What you got there Bloop?” 

Sunlight that I haven't felt streamed inside the box as the lid slowly opened. 

TBC

End side A continued to side G

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Much love and thanks to my wife g_girl143 for the arduous task of editing my drivel and turning it into something readable.
> 
> I'm glad i finushed part one just in time for Anya's birthday. 
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANYA!


End file.
